Winter Star
by Necronesia
Summary: Matt has made this wish dozens of times, but it seems that the even the gods don't seem to notice him. Maybe this time it'll be different... Netherlands x Canada


**A/N: **Hey, everyone! This is my second story uploaded to . I hope you all enjoy it!

**Summary: **It was thought that the gods, overwhelmed with curiosity, would sometimes look at the earth from between the spheres, and that in that instant a star or two might slip through the gap and become visible as a falling or shooting star. Since the gods were clearly peering down at that very moment, it was considered an excellent opportunity to voice one's wishes with the guarantee that the gods would hear them. Matt has made this wish dozens of times, but it seems that the even the gods don't seem to notice him. Maybe this time it'll be different...

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Hetalia or its characters. All I own is the story, okay?

**Pairings: **Canada x ?

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**Winter Star**

**Prologue: Starfield**

"There! That should be the last one, Kumajirou!"

The strawberry blond young man stepped back from his work, tilting his head as he scrutinized the spiralling Christmas lights that he had weaved through the trees in his backyard. Making sure that everything was hooked up, he turned and made his way to the switch, inwardly beaming at the way the fresh snow crunched beneath his boots.

He truly loved that sound, as it meant that the snow was firm enough to build things with, but not abrasive enough to scratch at his skin. It meant that the air was the perfect temperature, that the wind paid no role in making the day bitterly cold; that it was an ultimately perfect night.

Yes, Matthew had foolishly decorated his fir trees with only the sidereal glow of the sky, but he had previously whittled away his daylight with Christmas shopping. Understandably, the United Nations holiday party wasn't for another week, but the Canadian deeply dreaded even so much as entering a shopping mall near the winter holidays. People were voracious in their purchasing, and poor passive Canada just couldn't compete.

"You ready?" He inquired softly to his ivory-furred companion, who was tumbling about in the snow in an adorably playful fashion. When he received the expected response—"Who?"—Matthew chuckled and flipped the switch.

Violet and obsidian stared in wonderment at the illumination before them, glittering in reflection of the dainty icicle lights carefully hung upon the branches of the gargantuan firs. They were not too bright, nor were they the awkwardly large bulbs that a certain brother liked to use. Matthew preferred glowing and glittering to beaming and shining, and he was sure that the wildlife did as well. Lights were one of the two things that the Canadian loved about Christmas; the other was giving gifts.

Everything else just didn't seem to interest him, but perhaps it was because that he was only ever able to experience the lights and gift-giving.

The more northern of the North American brothers turned his eyes skyward, now. He watched in silence as white tufts fell from the sky, dancing gracefully in their slow descent to the earth. A soft hum emanated from his throat as he closed his eyes, revelling in the way the snow clung to his golden lashes and waves, the way each flake felt like cool kisses upon his cheeks. He could never comprehend why Alfred would want to lock himself away from this stuff. Sure, the blizzards and storms weren't that nice, but after the storms, when it was like this…

The fantastic glitter of the silver thistle, the gently falling flurries… he wouldn't trade anything for it.

Turning swiftly on his heel, the invisible nation known as Canada threw himself backward into a snow drift, landing with a soft sigh. Snow-laden lashes fluttered open to once again peer up at the sky, violet gazing intently as if searching for something. Even with the snowfall, the clouds did not completely obscure the stars. Distant twinkling lights flickered dimly in the inky blanket above him, appearing in random patches that reminded Matthew of puzzle pieces.

He folded his gloved hands upon the front of his plush winter coat, contently lying upon the snow as if it were a soft and comfy bed. It did not take long for the small polar bear to clamber onto him and curl up in his arms. Absently stroke his companion's fur, the Canadian's gaze remained heavenward, sedately taking in the fragments of the sky that peeked out from behind the clouds.

He couldn't tell how long he had been there, as time had a funny way of eluding him, especially when he was distracted. It didn't really matter how much time he spent outside, anyway. The only individual that could possibly be looking for him was currently nuzzling into his chest. As if reminded by this notion, Matthew turned his purple gaze to Kumajirou, only to be greeted with a lazy yawn. Chuckling, the strawberry blond wondered if perhaps it was time to head inside.

"Just a bit longer, okay?" He cooed to the small bear, leaning down to nuzzle into its soft fur, "Then we'll head inside for some cocoa and cookies." Another soft laugh escaped his throat at the newly found vigour in his animal companion. Kumajirou loved food, and that was no mystery.

Canada laid his head back down, his golden tresses fanning out on the white behind him, and brought his attention back to the sky. The night was calm and peaceful, and even though the skies were not completely clear, he found that he could not tear his eyes from it. Something about it calmed his mind, made him feel okay. Tracing the constellations with his oculi, he soon found himself smiling. Somehow, it made him feel less alone.

In between his lazy blinks, the Canadian gasped softly as he noted an ephemeral streak racing across the sky. It darted out of the ink and disappeared from sight, almost completely missed by the inattentive nation below. Matthew took a deep breath and closed his eyes lightly, bringing his hands up as if he was praying and lay there silent and still. He knew a falling star when he saw one, and despite his age, he knew what to do; he had done it many times before.

Even before the brief visit of Leif Ericsson and the Nordic countries, he would search the skies for these rare falling bodies and should he find one, he would close his eyes and try to make his thoughts reach that star. He almost always would wish for the same thing—rarely did he deviate from it. He wished before the Nordics came, he wished when they left. He wished when Francis left, and he wished when Arthur forgot he existed. There were times where it seemed to come true, but they were as brief as the star itself.

He would always end up unnoticed, forgotten… alone.

Sure, his situation changed: from a large, empty expanse of white to an equally large and empty house abundant in rooms that belonged to no one but him. It did not change the fact that he was undoubtedly, unquestioningly…

Alone.

The very word made his chest tense up painfully, made him curl in on himself like a wounded animal. It was a word that frightened him deeply, one that woke him from his slumber far more often than dreams of the boogeyman. But it was the truth, and that, quite possibly, was what hurt him the most.

_I-I wish to be noticed…_

_I wish to be remembered…_

_I wish… to be loved…_

As if he had been holding his breath for an eternity, Matthew's exhale was long and shaky. Peering up forlornly through sodden eyelashes—unknown whether it was due to the snow or sadness—the Canadian wondered if the heavens were watching him, if they could see how desperately he wanted this. If they did, he wondered if they would finally grant it to him, or if they would continue their cruel games of granting brief happiness.

He tore his eyes from the sky, feeling somewhat silly for doing such a thing. Swallowing thickly, the northern nation stood up, his bear still in his arms and trudged to his empty house. As he had promised, he prepared cocoa and cookies for him and his friend, and soon after the two fell asleep in their beds. Matthew dreamt of those times when he had thought his wish had been granted and hoped that daylight would not come too soon.

With the curtains drawn over his window, Canada was none the wiser of what had occurred outside. A single, forceful breeze blew forth, almost like a sigh, and brushed the clouds aside as if they were wisps of smoke. The stars began to glimmer then, but not in a natural way. Akin to the flashing lights of a machine, lights of communication, individual stars increased in brightness, deliberating with each other.

This sidereal council oversaw wishes made on falling stars and the first star to appear at night. They took priority over those that were selfless, those that were of good intention, and those that were well-deserved. While it was agreed that Matthew's wish was not selfless, it was indeed of good intention, and the boy had been wishing for it 142 years, only to have his heart broken over and over again. The Canadian indeed deserved it.

Next, the content of the wish had to be acceptable to their terms. Being noticed was fine, as the poor nation was made of more than air for heaven's sake. As was being remembered—Canada had done quite a few things that were worth recognition and remembrance. The only problem lied in being loved. Sure, everyone deserved to be loved, but as a certain Frenchman once said, "Love cannot be forced on someone." Therefore, they could not use their powers to make someone love Matthew.

What they could do, however, was make already fostered feelings bloom. All they had to do was find someone with those feelings. It would be a gradual process, of course. Having someone suddenly express their love to Matthew would likely frighten the poor boy into seclusion.

Content with their decision, the stars quieted, returning to their low glimmer, no longer whispering to each other. Below, the nation known as Canada was none the wiser of the divine change that was about to occur.

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**A/N: **I'll be putting a poll up on my profile for the pairing involved in this story. For the option marked "other", please specify in a review. Thank you!


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